<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i love the taste by bellawritess</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706669">i love the taste</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess'>bellawritess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>malum prompts [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>5 Seconds of Summer (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(i think??? i forget lol), Cooking, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Tension, bandter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:35:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27706669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael shouldn’t have volunteered to make a full course dinner for his first cooking venture ever, Calum thinks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Clifford/Calum Hood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>malum prompts [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i love the taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingangels/gifts">killingangels</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>prompt:</b> malum but one of them are learning to cook and making the other taste everything</p><p>  <a href="https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/618585508244750338/o-h-kay-drabble-idea-hm-malum-but-one-of-them">tumblr link!</a></p><p>title from wildflower by 5sos</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael shouldn’t have volunteered to make a full course dinner for his first cooking venture ever, Calum thinks.</p><p>Michael had wanted to invite Luke and Ashton over, too, just to really cement how he’s learning to be an adult (skills he should’ve learned years ago, frankly), but Calum had managed to talk him off that ledge. So now Michael is venturing to make meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and brownies (from <em>mix</em>, thank fuck) for the two of them, and Calum can’t help but feel like he’s watching a car wreck waiting to happen.</p><p>The worst part is that Michael won’t even let Calum help, because of pride or whatever, so Calum is helpless, just standing in the kitchen doorway and watching Michael squint at the recipe.</p><p>“At least put on your fucking glasses,” he says. He’s probably begging, but whatever, sue him, he doesn’t want Michael to fuck anything up just because he can’t <em>fucking see</em>.</p><p>Michael sighs, long-suffering. “They’ll just get steamed up.”</p><p>“I’m getting your glasses.”</p><p>“Stop helping me, you dick!”</p><p>Calum disappears into Michael’s room and gets his glasses. When he hands them to Michael, he receives a burning glare, and then a begrudging, “…Thanks,” as Michael puts them on. “Oh, wow. Way better.” He blinks at Calum. “Woah, Cal, have you always been this ugly?”</p><p>Calum punches him in the shoulder and considers swapping the salt and sugar just to fuck with Michael. Then he remembers he also has to eat this dinner.</p><p>The strange thing about Michael that Calum tends to forget is that he’s useless without instructions but very effective <em>with</em> instructions. Give him a recipe, and, to Calum’s utmost shock, half an hour later he’s got mashed potatoes on the stove and meatloaf cooking in the oven.</p><p>“Told you I could do it,” Michael says, looking smug.</p><p>“They might still taste like shit,” Calum points out, because he’s a supportive friend.</p><p>Michael raises his eyebrows. “Fine, asshole. Have a taste.”</p><p>“Mike, I’m literally —”</p><p>“Taste it,” Michael insists, taking the top off the pot of mashed potatoes. They smell good. Calum’s starving, so when Michael takes a spoonful and holds it out to Calum, he just sighs before putting it in his mouth.</p><p>“Good,” he allows, holding the spoon out for Michael — who isn’t quite fast enough when he meets Calum’s eyes for Calum not to notice him tracking Calum’s throat as he’d swallowed. It makes Calum feel a whole lot of different things, and none of them are easily identifiable, so he ignores them, just like he’s done for the last, oh, ten years. “Not poisoned? I thought you’d jump at your chance to take me out.”</p><p>“Just wait,” Michael says loftily, turning back around. Calum snickers and wraps his arms around Michael’s middle, hugging him from behind.</p><p>“You’re such a big talker,” he says. “You’d never poison me.”</p><p>“You don’t know,” Michael says. “Maybe this whole friendship has been a ploy.”</p><p>“What on Earth would you gain from that?” </p><p>“Get closer to Mali-Koa,” Michael says, shrugging. “She’s always been my favorite Hood.”</p><p>Calum scoffs, mock-offended. “Take that back. Everyone’s favorite Hood is Duke.”</p><p>Michael laughs. “Okay, I lied. Duke’s my favorite.”</p><p>Calum huffs, but that’s good enough for him. Most days, Duke is <em>his</em> favorite Hood, too.</p><p>There’s a moment of peaceful silence in the kitchen while Michael pulls away from Calum to put all his dirty dishes in the sink, and then he turns, reaching up to pinch Calum’s cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. Calum’s pulse quickens.</p><p>“You’re my favorite Hood,” Michael says, so soft in contradiction to the way he’s abusing Calum’s face right now. “For the record.”</p><p>“I’m telling Duke,” Calum says. Michael snorts.</p><p>“I’m starting the brownies,” he says. “Back off.”</p><p>Calum does, feeling a little better than before about giving Michael free reign in the kitchen. He makes rude comments while Michael measures out the ingredients, trying and failing not to watch the way the muscles in Michael’s forearm flex when he mixes them together. </p><p>“Alright, sous-chef,” Michael says once he’s poured the batter into the pan and set the pan in the oven. “Ten more minutes on the meatloaf, and then we can eat.” He looks proud.</p><p>“I’m not your sous-chef, I’ve not done anything,” Calum says. “You literally wouldn’t let me help.”</p><p>“You would have distracted me,” Michael protests. “It was bad enough just having you in here.” He reaches into the bowl and drags his fingers across the bottom until there’s brownie batter coating his index and middle fingers. Unthinkingly, Calum grabs Michael’s wrist, pulls Michael’s hand towards him, and puts Michael’s fingers in his mouth.</p><p>Michael stares at him as Calum licks the batter. “Tastes alright,” he says, lightly. Part of him can’t quite believe he’s just done that, but the other part feels like it could have been way weirder than it was. It’s just Michael. He’s done so much strange shit to and with Michael that this one shouldn’t even make the top ten list.</p><p>But there’s no mistaking the way Michael watches Calum’s mouth as he licks his lips. The air between them shifts, tenses, and Calum thinks that if he misses this moment, there won’t ever be another one.</p><p>He reaches for the bowl and skims his index finger around the edge, covering it with brownie batter. He holds out his hand to Michael. “Try it,” he offers, quietly.</p><p>Michael only hesitates for a second, and then he tugs Calum’s hand towards his mouth.</p><p>Calum’s heart pounds as Michael sucks the batter off his finger. It shouldn’t feel this good, Michael’s tongue teasing at Calum’s fingertips, but holy shit it <em>does</em>, and Calum swallows a whine. Slowly, Michael pulls Calum’s hand out of his mouth, but holds it there, breath hot against Calum’s skin.</p><p>“It’s good,” Michael says lowly. “Wonder if you taste the same.”</p><p>Calum doesn’t wait another second before kissing Michael, fierce and hungry like he probably should have done every second since they met, and Michael responds with equal enthusiasm. (As it happens, Michael does taste like brownie batter, but Calum would rather never eat another brownie than give up kissing Michael.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading &lt;3 i'm on tumblr <a href="http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/">@clumsyclifford</a> so come say hey!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>